


Bring the Rain

by Tesserae



Series: Masks Chafe [2]
Category: SG-1 - Fandom
Genre: First Time, M/M, Mustang, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-10
Updated: 2008-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesserae/pseuds/Tesserae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson kicks the door closed and throws Cam up against it the second they're in the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [filenotch](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=filenotch).



> Last-minute beta by the lovely [](http://bethynyc.livejournal.com/profile)[**bethynyc**](http://bethynyc.livejournal.com/), whose question to me was "Shoes?" Basically a stand-alone PWP, but follows on from [In Between the Rain.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/52119>)

They end up at Jackson's house because it's closer, Cam driving because he knows he can get them there faster, even with Jackson's hand heavy and warm and creeping higher on his thigh every time Cam stops at a red light. Jackson teases him with merciless intensity, running his palm along the seam of Cam's pants, wrapping his long fingers around the muscles in Cam's legs, stroking his thumb into the hollow behind Cam's knee until Cam can feel beads of sweat start to form in the space between the tendons.

Jackson's hand reaches his dick when they hit the last light before Jackson's street, and Cam stops on the yellow, hauls up on the emergency brake, and mutters, "_Fuck_, Jackson," and thrusts up hard into Jackson's palm. Jackson shifts a little in his seat and reaches for Cam's fly with his right hand, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down just far enough to slide his hand in under the waistband of Cam's briefs and close it over his achingly hard dick.

Jackson's hands are strong and _intent_, and when he drags his thumb across the head of Cam's dick the callous on it rasps and catches on the come-slick skin. Cam groans and starts to move, his hips pushing his erection into Jackson's grip, and he could come right here in the fucking _Mustang_, the friction from Daniel Jackson's weapons-hardened palm almost unbearable on his skin, but the light turns green and Jackson lets him go with a quick, "Sorry, sorry, you need to go left here," and Cam throws the car into gear and lurches into the intersection as a horn squawks behind them, trying not to pop the clutch.

Jackson kicks the door closed and throws Cam up against it the second they're in the house, working at the buttons on his shirt with clumsy fingers until he gives up and just _strips_ the thing off Cam, pushes his undershirt up and out of the way and drops his head to pull one of Cam's nipples into his mouth. Cam sucks in a breath and pushes his hands into Jackson's short soft hair, and Jackson moans around Cam's nipple and then bites down, pressing his palm over the other one and sending sparks shooting down Cam's spine and straight into his dick. And he must be moving or pushing or maybe it's his voice he can hear, a distant chorus of _fuck, fuck, FUCK_, because Jackson lets him go and looks up at him with glazed blue eyes and a wet mouth, and _ grins_.

"Jackson," he says, and it's only talking in the barest sense of the word, because Jackson has dropped to his knees and is working his zipper down the rest of the way, and Cam's never going to be able to walk into Jackson's lab and watch him study some alien doohickey _ever again_ without thinking of the way his face changes when he skims Cam's shorts down his hips, freeing his erection, and then takes it into his mouth. And then it's only _thinking_ in the barest sense of the word, because Cam's brain closes down around the hotwetheat_suction_ of Jackson's mouth on his dick, of his tongue pushing past the groove on the underside and along the vein, and Cam gives in to the arousal wrapping fire around the base of his spine and starts to fuck Jackson's mouth.

Jackson takes him down his throat and clamps his hands around Cam's hips, matching his rhythm and urging him forward until Cam is just seconds from the edge, heat blazing through him and his balls drawn up tight and hard against his thighs, and then Jackson pulls back slowly, maintaining suction until Cam fists his hands into Jackson's hair and tilts his head back. Jackson's gone slack-eyed from lust, his pupils huge behind the smeared lenses of his glasses, and as Cam watches he takes one hand off Cam's hip and slides two long fingers into his mouth. Cam's eyes widen impossibly and then Jackson's hand is sliding up between the cheeks of his ass and Cam swears and starts moving again, helplessly, pushing his dick into Jackson's mouth as Jackson pushes into him, one finger and then the other, and then he presses _down_ and swallows around Cam's dick, and Cam's hears a hoarse shout he doesn't recognize and then he is coming hard into Jackson's mouth as Jackson murmurs around his dick and holds him up against the door with gentle hands.

*

When he figures Mitchell can stand on his own, Daniel puts a still-trembling hand on the doorknob and pulls himself to his feet. He's still rock-hard, his cock heavy in his trousers, and he'd like nothing more than to get Mitchell on his knees and finally learn what the man can do with his mouth besides make smartass remarks. He pushes into Mitchell's space and lets his hips rock forward, wanting Mitchell to feel the press of his arousal, but Mitchell surprises him by taking his head in both hands and pulling him into a kiss that's gentle and full of wonder.

Daniel slides his hands around the back of Mitchell's neck and kisses him back, running his tongue over Mitchell's teeth and letting Mitchell press his mouth open. When he starts biting gently at Mitchell's lower lip Mitchell groans and starts grinding into Daniel, his movements slow and unfocused and accompanied by noises Daniel thinks he's never heard come out of anyone's mouth, and it's beyond hot that it's _Mitchell_ like this, loose and beautiful under his hands. _Yes,_ he thinks, _I've got you now, don't I?_ and doesn't stop to wonder if he's got the pronouns right before pulling Mitchell's hand down and pressing it into his cock.

Mitchell sucks Daniel's lip into his mouth and then pulls back slowly, letting it go, and tightens his hand around Daniel's cock. "What do you want?" he says in his harsh voice, the heat in it sending the arousal in Daniel's belly coiling into his balls.

Daniel stares at him and wonders if he looks as far gone as Mitchell does, and decides he does. "You," he whispers, and thrusts hard into Mitchell's hand, hoping he's making himself clear, but Mitchell seems to get it because his eyes darken and he glances down at the hand he's got fisted around Daniel's cock and nods, his throat working. Wordlessly, Daniel grabs Mitchell's other hand and pulls at him until he toes his way out of his shoes and steps free of the pile of clothes at his feet, and leads him into the bedroom.

Daniel's bedroom is neater than he'd expected it to be, the bed made and nothing more on the chair than a folded pair of sweats, and the dust he's sure has accumulated in the last two or three weeks invisible with the shades drawn against the late afternoon sun. He turns back to Mitchell and Mitchell reaches for him again, pulling Daniel's shirt loose and stripping him out of his trousers with sure hands. Daniel quirks an eyebrow and Mitchell looks up and laughs.

"You try flying an F-15 sometime. Takes all the mystery out of zippers, I gotta say," and then Daniel's pants and his boxers are sliding down toward the floor, and there's a flush staining the fair skin of Mitchell's neck and he's breathing hard, and Daniel thinks that if he's not _inside_ Mitchell sometime in the next two minutes he's going to come standing right here, from the heat of Mitchell's gaze alone.

He pushes Mitchell toward the bed, kicks his own shoes off, and makes a quick detour into the bathroom for lube and a condom. When he gets back Mitchell is sprawled on his stomach, legs spread and one knee pulled up, and when Daniel strokes his thumbs into the muscles behind his hipbones he rolls up into Daniel's hands and moans. Daniel leans down and lays a kiss in the sweat-damp hollow at the base of Mitchell's spine, and wraps his hands around Mitchell's hips and pulls him up, close enough that he can smell the sharp clean musk of his skin. He drags his mouth lower, circling the tight muscle, and strokes down the crease of Mitchell's ass with his thumbs, feeling the muscle quiver and start to relax, feeling the faint drag of perspiration against the pads of his fingers.

Mitchell shudders and pushes back into Daniel's hands, and it's only when Daniel presses into Mitchell with his tongue that he subsides, spreading his legs, his hips moving unevenly against the quilt on Daniel's bed. Daniel slides a hand between his legs, not surprised to find that Mitchell's halfway to hard again, and he wraps his hand around Mitchell's cock and drags his thumb over the head, and Mitchell makes a noise that somewhere in between a whimper and a moan before lifting his head and gritting out, "Jackson. _Fuck me already._"

Daniel sits back on his knees and tears the condom open with his teeth and rolls it on. It's cool against his straining cock and the lube is cooler still, and Daniel's glad of that, because once he starts sliding his fingers into Mitchell and Mitchell starts fucking back onto his hand, it's every baseball game Daniel's ever sat through plus the first twenty consonants from a few lost alphabets before he can be sure he won't come the minute his cock breaches the ring of muscle his fingers are pushing into.

They are both sweating when Mitchell starts saying _Fuck_ again, his voice guttural and strained, and this time Daniel _does_, pushing his cock into Mitchell, past the slowly-yielding grip of muscle and into the slick heat of him, Mitchell's skin flushed and damp beneath him. Daniel sets a punishing rhythm and then reaches around for Mitchell's cock, and it's heavy and slick and he tightens his grip, and Mitchell yells and clenches hard muscles around Daniel's cock, and comes in a rush of fluid over his hand.

Daniel lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean, and then drops his hand back onto Mitchell's hip and starts to thrust until, wordless with pleasure, he bites down on Mitchell's shoulder and comes with the taste of Mitchell's skin salt-sharp in his mouth, and the long muscles of his thighs trembling beneath him. And Daniel rides his orgasm out until his arms can't hold him any longer, and then he drops an open-mouthed kiss onto Mitchell's neck and collapses.

A year or so later, there's a rumbling noise beneath him that turns out to be Mitchell. "I," Mitchell says, his voice muffled by the pillow and the weight of Daniel on top of him. "Um." Daniel figures this means _Move, damn it_, and so he wraps his hand around Mitchell's hip and pulls out slowly, and then rolls off him and takes off the condom, knotting it and dropping it onto the floor. He lies there listening to Mitchell breathe, wondering if the freak-out he'd walked him through that afternoon is going to reappear when Mitchell shifts around and ends up on his side, his back like a wall between them, but then Mitchell lifts his head and gives Daniel a dopey smile over his shoulder, and Daniel smiles back, sex-stupid and, he thinks, happy.

"'Mmmere," Mitchell adds, and that seems to be some kind of invitation, so Daniel rolls back and throws an arm over his side, smiling when Mitchell laces his fingers into Daniel's and pulls their hands up to his chest. He should really make some effort to clean them up, but Mitchell's ass is settled comfortably against Daniel's belly and his heartbeat is slow and solid in Daniel's ears, so Daniel rests his forehead against the knobs of Mitchell's spine and lets himself fall asleep.

 

End


End file.
